beyond the green

¨Piensas que deberia existir la pena de muerte?¨ This is the question my Ecuadorian Culture teacher presented us in class today. Pena de muerte = Death Penalty. What a wonderful subject for the bright sunny day I was witnessing on the other side of the window-pane. Not.

Our teacher was asking us, as North Americans, what we thought about the Death Penalty. She was asking if we think it should exist.

The death penalty does not exist in Ecuador, nor in any other country in South America. But it does exist in the United States.

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As I walked to class today, feeling the wind, seeing the set up for Fall Fest, I realized today is the last day of September.

Some people say that September begins the season of fall, with the coming of school. Some people say the autumnal equinox is the true beginning of fall.

For me, fall is a feeling. The feeling of cool, crisp air blowing through campus, letting me break out that jacket after a summer of heat and humidity. (sigh, that’s a good feeling).

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70 sentences using a unique list of given verbs/adjectives… an essay describing the use of a technocratic model in the fight against poverty… reading of a legend that explains the origin of the city Guayaquil… A weekend in the cloud forest with 8 friends… TIME FACTOR.

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I would say that this year is off to a good start, but it’s already the end of September, and the school year is well under way. This is a little bewildering to me. I suppose that living in town all summer has lessened the excitement of coming back to Bethel for school, but this year just seems like a continuation of last year instead of a whole new chapter. This combined with the fact that it’s my last year at Bethel makes for an interesting set of emotions to start off the year.

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The book Dead Man Walking, by Sister Helen Prejean. She spoke to us in convocation yesterday and it was so moving. The convo was shorter than usual, and before she spoke I had a some doubts regarding her ability to speak, as well as her topic- abolishing the death penalty. Picture it, this tiny elderly woman with a white lace collar shirt and an old fashioned, black coat and black pants. She had large glasses and peeked out from under her mop of gray hair. Her face was deeply lined with years… of grief I suppose. I think the Bethel student body was a little surprised to hear her strong southern voice come booming out at first. We all got a good laugh- and she had a great sense of humor. Little did I know that I would end up crying. I want to read her books now- she spoke so well and with such passion. I wish that she would come back and tell us more about what she’s seen and done and is currently doing in this movement.

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